The Song in My Heart by Tracey Richardson Page A

“Sometimes, yes, but not as often as you think.”
    “And what do you do in the face of all that temptation?” Please tell me you’re not promiscuous , Dess silently pleaded. Sloane was bad enough; she didn’t need Erika behaving that way too. She couldn’t admit to herself that she cared about the answer for other, more personal reasons, too.
    “Nine times out of ten, I go home alone.”
    It was an honest answer, judging by the absence of any hesitation, and Dess heaved an inward sigh of relief. Then another to ground herself. “Look. About last night…”
    Erika had the good grace to look uncomfortable. Like the blame was on her. “Yes?”
    “I…” Oh, shit. I don’t even know what I want to say, except that I’m supposed to be the adult here .
    “You did nothing wrong,” Erika interjected before Dess could wrench something intelligible out of herself. She could have kissed Erika for letting her off the hook so easily.
    “I let the mood of the evening get to me,” Erika continued. “No, wait, that’s not quite right. I let my emotions get the best of me, and it was inappropriate of me to touch you the way I did. I apologize.”
    “I appreciate the apology, Erika, but there’s no need. I think I let the mood of the evening get to me a little too, and I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.” There. Now she knows in no uncertain terms that I’m not looking for anything other than a professional relationship. “I can promise you it won’t happen again.”
    Dess meant it too, but she felt a pang of sadness at the thought. It was a hard thing for her to admit, but she got lonely sometimes. Not only in the absence of someone to talk to, to share with, to hang out with, but very much in physical terms as well. A hug, some snuggling, holding hands. And…okay, Carol was right. A little sex now and again would be nice too. But there was no place in her mind for connecting the dots with Erika. For a number of reasons, and all of them very good, Erika was not the woman to fill any of those voids. Erika, she reasoned, simply served as a reminder that some of the things she missed sharing with another woman were still important to her.
    Erika flashed a grin that was far too playful. “Well, I wouldn’t hold it against you if you wanted to break that promise.”
    Dess shook her head, not buying the act. “You’re an incorrigible flirt, you know that? Although I am flattered, so thank you for that. Now let’s get back to the music before you get yourself into trouble.” And before this conversation strays into more dangerous territory . “What else is in your repertoire that you’d like to play on the tour?”
    “What about another original piece?”
    “Like?”
    Erika swallowed visibly but never took her eyes off Dess. “I know you don’t want me singing one of your hit songs from the past, and I respect that. But Sloane said you have binders full of songs you’ve written that have never seen the light of day. Why don’t we change that?”
    It was a long moment before Dess could move her mouth. Shock gave way to outrage at the suggestion. There was no way in hell anyone was going to see those binders of songs, never mind sing anything in one of them. They were much too personal, harkening back to some of her darkest days—the breakup with Dayna, her battle with cancer, the loss of her career, the unspoken emptiness that too often filled her days and blackened her mood. The songs were a form of journaling, and even suggesting that she share her personal pain in the form of those songs felt like a betrayal.
    Her jaw clenched. She could barely grind out the words. “Absolutely not. And I don’t ever want to hear that suggestion again.”
    “But I don’t understand. Those binders could be a gold mine.”
    “No,” Dess said in a voice sharp as a razor. “You’re right. You don’t understand, and I hope to God you never will.”
    * * *
    Erika could no longer maintain her mask of